


Nate and Joseph

by Bad_Dog_Tricks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Accident (Scat), Age Play, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Anal Spanking, Animal Play, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bathtub Sex, Blackmail, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Cock Slapping, Collars, College, Diapers, Electricity Play, Enemas, Fear of Discovery, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Knives, Leashes, M/M, Master/Pet, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Newspapers, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-consensual everything, Physical Abuse, Power Play, Puppy Play, Rough Body Play, Sex Swing, Size Difference, Temperature Play, Threats of Violence, Verbal Humiliation, daddy dom, frat boy - Freeform, litterbox use, outdoor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22250569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_Dog_Tricks/pseuds/Bad_Dog_Tricks
Summary: Ex-Army Joseph and frat-boy goof Nate have lived as college roommates for 2 years with no issues - until Nate drinks a bit too much one night and they both have to deal with the consequences the next morning.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 172





	1. Couch Crasher

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second shot at writing my own characters. They are created entirely as cute props for me to project my crazy fetishes on, so they're intentionally not too detailed. However, I hope they're human enough to be interesting to read about. I've added some details here; I kinda wanted to soften the "beat on the straight dude" angle and give sadistic Joseph some really worthwhile boner material seeing that Nate's actually into it too...or at least a part of him is. (Yes, yes, in the real world arousal does not equal consent. But this is Boner World, and the appropriate tags are there.)
> 
> Nate is a big affable himbo, still frat-boy dumbass material but mildly woke if you squint. Think: goes to strip clubs, also dates trans girls. Doesn't consider himself even bi-curious, just thinks he's a femme-attracted straight cis dude who likes some weird porn now and again. He's basically a low-key pan/omnisexual cis dude with a subby streak who hasn't explored his pre-existing attraction to men...yet. So he still thinks he's straight, and we'll set him...well, queer, I guess. :-) 
> 
> Joseph is an experienced, mean little fuck of a dominant guy who has been masquerading as straight with Nate for the whole time they've known each other. This is not because he is actively in the closet, just smart enough not to bother trying to chase boys with the ostensibly-straight frat-boy roomie. Not to mention knowing better than to bring dudes back to the apartment unless he knows that roomie won't be around to be awkward about it. 
> 
> Joseph drops the façade when Nate fucks up badly enough to activate a really righteously angry sadistic side of him. Joseph knows quite a few things at the intersection of military skills, psychological manipulation, and kinky techniques, and enjoys applying them to his partners. He's the type to have nearly the same profile on Tindr, Grindr and Recon. He loves being a mental and sexual sadist, with consent, but has trouble finding partners that want to be pushed as hard as he likes to go. The type to be on the edges of the kink community, not really totally familiar with kink community norms of consent.
> 
> And, in fact...Joseph, the sadist, does not give a single gram of fuck about consent right now. 
> 
> Because he is really, really angry. 
> 
> (Please note I absolutely mean it about the crazy fetishes. Mind the tags.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate fucks up, and is given a rude awakening by Joseph.

It had been a long and ridiculous night for Nate. The crew had met at Kevin's frat to pregame with some vodka shots, then hit the wing place to watch the game. When their team lost, they drowned their sorrows at the bar. A very celebratory group of out-of-towners who had been loudly rooting for the opposite team saw them moping, took pity on them, and bought them a round of shots.

The conversation that followed eventually got around to the topic of strip club recommendations, and naturally, being locals, they had their own opinions. They were invited along, and soon found themselves enjoying lap dances next to their new friends. One dance turned into three, 4 rounds of shots turned into 7, and before they knew it, it was 2 a.m. and the bouncers were helping them call group Ubers. They parted with a flurry of high fives and back slaps, and each group made their way home.

Nate was the first of the four to be dropped off, and he spilled out of the uber giggling and fumbling with his keys. He waved to his buddies from the porch as the Uber took off, and after a few false starts, managed to get the door open. He was definitely too dizzy and too tired to climb the stairs, so he decided to just pass out on the couch in the living room. He flopped face down, curled one arm under his head, and was out in seconds, still grinning.

* * *

He awoke to someone shaking his shoulder and calling his name - his roommate, Joseph. Joseph was 27 to Nate's 22 and had done a stretch in the Army to pay for college. Joseph's parents were Jewish and Cherokee, leaving him with sharp features, naturally tanned skin, and curly black hair. Next to Nate's 6' 2" frame, Joseph's 5' 9" swimmer's build didn't look like much, but Nate had seen him lay out guys twice his size at a couple of the rowdier parties they had been to. He was strong, quick, and had learned all kinds of weird shit in the Army.

Despite his time in the military, he was surprisingly chill about Nate's messy tendencies and open to throwing the occasional party. He was even a good wingman, having sent a couple of girls Nate's way after being told they preferred taller men. "You're doing me a favor, dude," he had said. "If they're that shallow, I don't want them, and if I introduce them to your big Irish ass, at least somebody's getting laid out of it. I just tell them, 'That's cool, you want to meet the world's tallest leprechaun?' Works every time." Lanky and broad-shouldered, Nate had tried to play basketball in college, but was too uncoordinated to make the team. These days, he just watched the pros.

"Nate, hey, wake up."

"H-hey, yeah, man. I'm awake, I'm awake - "

"Yeah? Then get up. Get off my couch, you fuck."

"Hey, man, what the fuck," Nate protested groggily. They had been roommates for 2 years and Joseph had never talked to him like that, not even that time when he had forgotten to take the trash out for so long that Joseph had done it instead and the bag had been so overfull it had split, scattering maggots and rotting food all over the kitchen floor. He had legitimately felt terrible and had apologized a ton of times by text and in person. But aside from a few aggravated text messages and terse acceptance of his apologies, Joseph had never even mentioned it again. All he had said was, "I saw worse in the army, dude. Just don't do it again, yeah?" This kind of tone was totally out of character for him.

"I'm hungover as fuck, can't this wait?"

"I don't want to hear it, dude. Stand the fuck up."

Nate struggled to his feet, knuckling sleep from his eyes. "Are you just mad because I fell asleep on your couch? You said the living room was whatever goes," he whined.

"I didn't mean you could _shit_ on my fucking couch, you fucking asshole!" Joseph exploded, grabbing a fistful of Nate's black T-shirt.

"Hey, whoa, chill - " Nate said, bringing his hands up defensively between them.

As if he had been waiting for this, Joseph hauled the shirt up, trapping Nate's arms and head. Yanking the fabric behind Nate's back, he twisted it tighter and tighter until Nate's forearms were pressed up against his face. He struggled as much as he could, clumsily trying to kick away, but earned only a contemptuous laugh and a kick to the back of his knees. He immediately fell forward, crumpling to his knees. Joseph controlled his fall, using his shirt as a handle.

Convinced his roommate had gone batshit crazy, Nate let out a muffled yell for help, still trapped inside the shirt. As he was drawing breath for another, Joseph shoved him and Nate pitched helplessly forward. Using the grip on his shirt, Joseph controlled Nate's fall again, stopping him just before he hit the floor. Panting with fear, Nate could feel his elbows brushing against the carpet through his shirt. Joseph let him the rest of the way down and planted a boot in his back, pinning him to the floor. Nate's breath went out in a whoosh as he felt Joseph lean down, settling his weight on that foot.

"Listen up, asshole," Joseph growled. "Right now, breathing is a fucking privilege. If you try to yell for help again, I'll crank your jaw open and stuff your dirty jocks in there."

"Joseph," Nate gasped against the weight, "I don't know what fucking sick game this is, or if it's some kind of PTSD bullshit, but you better let me up right the fuck now!"

Joseph laughed. "No, this isn't PTSD. This is me being sick of your dumb ass."

"What?!" Nate protested. "I just fell asleep on your fucking couch, why are you so pissed?"

"Didn't you hear me earlier, numbnuts? You were so fucking drunk, you shit yourself on my couch."

"No I didn't!"

"I know it's probably a little hard to breathe in there, but take a deep fucking breath, jerkoff. You'll smell it. It's all over you."

Nate took a tentative sniff. His stomach rolled and he gagged as he recognized the smell, and he knew in an instant that Joseph was right. He shifted uneasily on the carpet, realizing that his normally loose basketball shorts were stuck to him - in the back _and_ the front.

"Got it figured out yet, dumbfuck?" sneered Joseph. "Baby boy had too many drinky-winkies and made a messy poopie accident in his big boy pants."

"I - Joseph, man, I'm so sorry - " Nate stammered, embarrassed beyond belief.

"Not as fucking sorry as you're going to be," his roommate promised angrily. "I put up with some real mouth-breathers in the Army, but this takes the cake."

Nate's head was spinning. He had to talk his way out of this! "C'mon, dude, just let me up and I'll clean it, I swear."

"Oh, you're going to clean it," Joseph agreed. "And if you don't get it clean enough, you're going to buy me a whole new couch."

"Of course, no problem," Nate babbled. "I'm so fucking sorry, man, I was totally plastered when I got home, I didn't even realize - "

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't. But you made a hell of a mess, and now we're going to have to clean it up."

"No, no, _you_ don't have to clean up anything! I fucked up, I'll clean it, I'll scrub it myself."

"Of course you will. But we gotta get you cleaned up first."

"Yeah, just let me hop in the shower real quick - "

"Dude, do you honestly think I'm going to let you in the downstairs shower like that? There's only one tub in this condo - I'm not having you wash your shitty ass in the same place I like to chill in when I'm high. And the stairs have carpet."

He stood up, shifting his weight off of Nate. He pulled Nate's upper body off the floor by the back of the t-shirt, levering him back up into a kneeling position. Once he had his legs under him, Joseph released the hold on his shirt and Nate struggled out of it. Looking down at himself, he realized that his bright yellow basketball shorts now had a massive brown stain straight through the crotch. He gagged again as the smell hit him.

"Pretty fucking gross, isn't it?"

Nate couldn't even bring himself to respond, much less look up at Joseph. Then he realized that the legs of his basketball shorts were duct-taped tightly against his thighs. "The hell?" he muttered.

"That was me," said Joseph. "When I came downstairs and found you this morning, I didn't want your mess to get anywhere else. Luckily you sleep like a fucking dead man."

"Dude, I feel terrible, I'll do whatever you say. I gotta make this up to you."

Joseph remained stone-faced. "We'll see. Come on, get up, get into the backyard."

"The backyard?"

"Yeah. You're going to wash yourself off with the hose."

Nate started to argue, then bit his lip. He said he would do _anything_, and Joseph was calling the shots right now. A cold shower wouldn't kill him.

  
  



	2. Cold Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh helps Nate clean up - outside, with the hose.

He let Joseph lead him to the corner of their small backyard where the lawn was patchy, dragging the hose behind them. He breathed a sigh of relief that they had rented a place with a solid cinder block fence. He was pretty sure Joseph would still make him do this even if they just had chain-link.

He turned to Joseph. "So are you going to pass me the hose, or - ?"

In response, Joseph dug into one of the pockets of his cargo pants and chucked their dollar-store bottle of dish soap at him. Nate caught it and looked up, confused, just as a jet of cold water hit him right in the chest.

"Aw, fuck!" he yelled.

"Shut up and get to scrubbing," Joseph ordered. "I'm tired of smelling your stink."

Nate did as he was told, soaping up his arms and chest, wincing at the cold. It was spring, but it was still early enough in the morning that it was a bit chilly out.  
He finished with his upper body, and paused. Was Joseph really going to stand there while he got naked?

"C'mon, dude, let me do this - " he started to say, but was hit in the face with the hard, cold spray.

"Nope. Get it done, shit-stain."

"I can wash my own balls!" he protested, spitting water. This just earned him a laugh and another shot of water to the face. He put his hands to the waistband of his shorts and paused, partly because he didn't want to see the mess and partly because he didn't want to be naked.

"The faster you do it, the faster it's done," Joseph said. "You can do it yourself or I can drop you in the mud, zip-tie your hands, and do it for you."

Nate sighed and pulled down his sodden shorts. He grimaced at the mess and quickly wiggled the bands of duct tape down over his knees so he could drop his shorts and step out of them. He grunted and flinched away as Joseph directed the spray at his hip. Gingerly, he began washing himself off, not even wanting to touch the sloppy brown stains on his inner thighs.

"Oh, for God's sake, will you quit being such a priss?"

"I'm trying," Nate snapped. "If you would just give me the fucking hose - "

"I'll give you the fucking hose, all right," Joseph laughed, spraying him in the face again. "You suck at this. I don't want to be here all fucking day. Do a wall sit and spread your legs."

"What?!" This got him sprayed again.

"Put your back against the fucking wall, do a fucking wall sit, and spread your fucking legs! Is that so hard to understand, shit-for-brains?"

Hungover, humiliated, disgusted and soaking wet, Nate gave up. He backed against the wall, did a wall sit, and slowly inched his knees apart, legs trembling with the effort. This had to be the worst morning of his life.

"Attaboy," Joseph praised him sarcastically, directing the stream to his exposed inner thighs, shrunken cock, and shriveled balls. Nate grimaced and flattened his hands against the wall as the cold spray hit sensitive skin. Most of the mess washed off quickly under the harsh spray, leaving his pale freckled skin an angry pink.

"Now stand up and use the soap," Joseph prompted. Nate quickly scrambled out of the wall sit and grabbed the soap.

Joseph snorted. "I ain't never seen a leprechaun naked before, but you'd think his Lucky charms wouldn't be so fun sized."

Fuck you, dude, that water is cold as fuck," Nate grumbled. "I'm surprised my junk hasn't retreated into my body cavity."

"Now wouldn't that be something, a 6-foot-2 leprechaun with no dick," Joseph snapped back, rinsing the soap off.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You done getting your revenge, you fucking sadist?"

"You wish, shit-stain. If you're this bad about hygiene, it's a wonder you've been laid at all. Turn around and grab the wall, genius, you fucking rooster-tailed yourself."

"Jesus, are you serious?"

"Want to put your hands in it and find out?"

"Fuck, no," Nate said as he turned toward the wall, obediently putting his palms against it.

The spray hit across his lower back, still hard enough to make him wince. Joseph tracked it slowly down Nate's spine to the crack of his ass, where the mess was the worst. After a few seconds, Joseph sighed in frustration.

"We're never going to get you clean if you keep clenching, dude. Spread 'em."

Nate had finally had enough, and turned around to tell him so. "Come on, Joseph. That's too much. Just give me the fucking hose and I'll get myself clean."

Joseph eyebrow raised. "You want another shot in the face?"

"Knock it off," Nate said, anger starting to bleed through the humiliation that had kept him quiet. "Just give me the hose. I know I fucked up, but this is too much. I'm not gay."

"Fuck you, neither am I!" Joseph shot back.

"Then why did you fucking tell me to spread my legs? This is so unnecessary, dude. I _said_ I was sorry!"

"I just don't need you dragging your smelly ass all over the furniture because you don't know how to keep your ass clean, shit-stain!"

"It was a fucking _accident_ \- " Nate said, taking an angry step toward Joseph in frustration. Joseph responded to his advance by blasting the hose straight in his face, but he just shut his eyes, clenched his jaw, and walked into the spray, reaching blindly for the hose and for Joseph.

His fumbling hands found the hose, but as he yanked it away to get the spray out of his eyes, he realized Joseph was no longer holding on to it. Blinking water out of his eyes, he looked around - just as Joseph booted him in the back of the legs. For the second time that day, Nate found himself on his knees. As he tried to scramble back up, Joseph kneed him in the back, dropping his full weight forward and rolling Nate straight down into the ground.

All the air whooshed from Nate's lungs as he belly-flopped, his elbows and forearms sliding against the wet grass. A sudden sharp pain to the back of his knees caused him to reflexively bend his legs, trying to cover the vulnerable spot. He felt something click rapidly around his ankles, which he immediately found he could not separate. He fishtailed desperately, kicking his bound legs - but Joseph's implacable weight stayed heavy on his back, and none of his kicks connected. Knuckles dug hard into his ribs in a vicious blow, making him cry out in pain and yank his hands back in an attempt to protect himself. His wrists were collected as quickly as his ankles, the ratcheting clicks loud in his ears. He belatedly recognized the sound as belonging to those huge zip-ties he'd bought a while back and forgotten in the garage. His bound ankles were hoisted to his butt, and within seconds, he was hogtied as neatly as a calf at a rodeo.

He lay in the grass panting as Joseph dismounted him, pulling off the tank top undershirt he wore and rolling it neatly around the middle of another huge zip-tie. He crouched down next to Nate's face, grinning smugly. "I _told_ you I was gonna drop you in the mud, shit-stain. And you know what? I think that's going to be your new nickname."

"Listen, you asshole - " Nate's protests were cut short as Joseph shoved the rolled-up tee shirt in his mouth, yanking the ends of the zip-tie behind his head hard enough Nate heard his jaw creak in protest. Another set of clicks, and the wad of fabric was shoved firmly into his mouth. He tried to bite, to spit out the shirt - to no effect, as the fabric just squeaked between his teeth, rubbing along his molars. The edges of the zip-tie dug painfully into the corners of his mouth.

Joseph laughed. "Now that I've got you in a compromising position, I'm sure you wouldn't be so dumb as to holler for help. But just in case, I decided to be sure."

Nate tried to yell "Fuck you!" through the gag, but only a muffled "Huck 'oo," emerged.

"Isn't that cute? A grown-ass man with an ass-crack packed full of shit, hogtied with his face in the dirt. Fuck _me?_ I think it's _you_ who's fucked, shit-stain." He rose, towering over Nate, and gave him a considering look. Bending down, he threaded one more zip tie around Nate's upper arms, cinching it tighter and tighter until Nate's shoulders lifted completely off the ground and he moaned in protest. Planting his feet, he gripped Nate by one awkwardly bent elbow and pulled, dragging him over the wet grass and back to the muddy corner of the yard with a total ease that shocked Nate. Just how strong _was_ Joseph?

Rolling him onto his belly again, Joseph positioned Nate right in the middle of the huge, sloppy mud puddle they'd created.

"Go on, piggy, wallow," he jeered as the cold, filthy water soaked Nate. "It's your mess, after all."

Nate desperately tried to keep his face out of the muck, but Joseph was having none of it. "Deep breath!" he ordered, and yanked upward on Nate's ankles, forcing his face into the mud. Nate howled as his own filth splashed up against the gag. He twisted violently to pull his face out of the puddle and away from the stink, and Joseph let go of his ankles, letting him flop gracelessly belly-down.

"Okay, shitstain, here's how it's gonna be. You're gonna lay right there and be a good boy, and I'm going to go grab a couple of things. If I come back and you've moved a fucking _inch,_ I'll punt your balls up into your asshole so hard you'll be shitting my shoelaces. Stay quiet and stay still. Anything other than that, I'll make you sing soprano."

Nate heard his boots echo against the tile of the patio as he headed through the side gate toward the garage. Shaking his head to clear the runny muck from his eyes, he craned his neck and squinted at the gate - and saw Joseph had left it open.


	3. Setting Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph gets Nate set up for the next phase of his punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for implied threatened violence with knife.

He jumped a little as he heard the mechanical whirring of the garage door go up. What was Joseph doing in the _garage?_ The next thing he heard was a loud rattling sound as Joseph pulled something big out, and then the noise of the garage door going down. The rattling sound resolved itself recognizably into casters rolling on concrete as Joseph began rolling whatever-it-was back to the side gate, but since they both had rolling tool-chests and Joseph had a MIG welder, that didn't help much.

The rolling stopped suddenly.

"_Hey_, Gloria!" he heard Joseph sing out. Gloria was their hot neighbor across the complex, a lady in her late 40s that they both flirted with. It was mostly a low-key competition to see who could make her laugh hardest, as she thought they were both ridiculous and often told them so. But she flirted back and encouraged them, and it had become a silly in-joke between the three of them. Hearing Joseph address her made Nate's blood run cold. He couldn't let anyone could see him like this! But he was helpless to do anything but lay there and pray that Joseph wouldn't bring her in on this - or that she would reject him playfully as always.

"Hey yourself, Joseph! What'cha doin' running around without a shirt on? You'll catch your death of cold!" he heard Gloria reply.

"Aww, you're worried about li'l old me? Doing some cleaning got me alllll dirrrrty," he said, intentionally drawing out his words in a faux-porno purr. "You wanna come see how clean my bedroom is? I just put new sheets on the bed!"

Nate shivered in the mud, more from his mounting anxiety than the cold. Was Joseph really going to let her into the house while he was stuck like this? Would he invite her into the backyard? Sell her some story about him losing a bet?

"Yeah, you're a dirty boy, all right!" she giggled.

"If you only gave me a chance, I could show you how dirty I can be! When're you gonna let me show you a good time, girl? Get on over here!"

_Oh god, please stop, don't, don't, don't -_ Joseph begged in his head, panting into the gag in fear of being discovered.

She laughed. "I ain't been a girl in many years, pretty boy. And I don't have time for your come-see-my-clean-bedroom nonsense. But you wanna flash me those abs, I won't say no!"

"As you command," Joseph replied silkily, and must have flexed for her, as Nate heard her appreciative cartoon wolf-whistle.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Get back in the house and get a shirt on before this cougar pounces on you, you innocent lamb."

"I ain't been innocent in many years, pretty girl. And I'd let you tear me up any day - you're my favorite cougar!"

"Stop that noise!" Gloria scoffed, chuckling.

"Bye, Gloria!" he heard Joseph call after her. _Oh thank god,_ he thought.

His relief was short-lived, as a few seconds later the rolling noise started up again, getting louder as Joseph wheeled the item through the side gate. He craned his neck and squinted again, making out the shape of the big red two-ton engine hoist they'd split the cost of last year when they'd both been working on cars as a side hustle. Joseph bumped the side gate shut and grinned at Nate's obvious confusion, rolling the hoist onto the patio. He made a show of laying down the cheap plastic tarp he was carrying under one arm, placing the hoist exactly where he wanted it, dead center on the tarp and midway between the two 4x4's supporting the patio's roof, nodding to himself. Then he looked over and gave Nate a cartoonishly wide smile and a sarcastic wave, strolling across the grass to crouch by his head again.

"Did I give you a little scare there, shit-stain? Did you think I was going to get Gloria to come over, have a look at you? Or maybe I'd just have fucked her upstairs, right up against that window that faces out to the backyard. Maybe pop the window open so you could hear her nice and loud. Or I could have brought her in, showed her the mess you left, told her I was punishing you for being a dumbfuck loser who doesn't even wipe his ass right. And your handsome roommate has to help the wittle baby-boy clean up after his big boom-boom."

Nate growled into the soaked material of the gag stretching his mouth. "'Oo're 'n aff'ole," he ground out around it.

"Oh yeah? You pass out drunk, shit on my couch, refuse to clean yourself, and _I'm_ the asshole?" Joseph chuckled. "Boy, you haven't _seen_ me be an asshole yet," he said, standing. "But you will."

A boot planted on his hip made Nate flinch, but instead of kicking him, Joseph simply pushed at him until he rolled over on his side. "There," he said. "That'll help your shoulders a little. Your hands are probably going numb, but don't worry - I've got other plans. Just sit tight, shit-stain. I'll be back in a minute." 

He disappeared into the house.

Nate heard him go up the stairs. Blood thundered in his ears; he was absolutely _furious_, but worse than that, he was utterly humiliated. He was right next to a slowly drying puddle of his own mess, his shoulders burned like fire, and worst, he wasn't even all the way clean yet. He really had fucked up, no doubt, but this was just _ridiculous_. He resolved to take Joseph down the second he took off the zip ties. He couldn't keep him restrained like this forever.

Joseph stepped back out to the porch with a duffel bag, from which he withdrew a mess of nylon straps and a jingle of chain. Nate peered over, worried, but couldn't figure out what Joseph was messing with. It laid on the ground, an unrecognizable pile of black strapping connected by chain to two ends of a steel triangle about a foot and a half wide across the bottom. Joseph snapped the top point of the triangle through the engine hoist's hook and pumped it a few times, slowly lifting most of the strapping off the ground, where it dangled - two sets of larger loops and a set of smaller ones Joseph was wrapping around the triangle frame, out of the way. Nate squinted, and realized belatedly what the thing was.

A sex swing.

"Nnnf!" he yelled through his gag. He wasn't going to let his roommate fuck him, couch or no couch! Joseph looked over at him, irritated.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, shit-stain. Since you're gonna be a little bitch about getting yourself clean, I gotta figure out some way I can house-train your stupid cornhole to stay closed long enough to let you back in the house to clean my couch. And I ain't gonna do that till you're clean."

He marched over to Nate and hefted him by the upper arms, dragging him across the grass toward the waiting swing. Just as they reached the concrete lip of the porch, he rolled Nate onto his belly again in the grass and stepped behind him. In the edges of his peripheral vision, Nate saw Joseph dig in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. A second later, Joseph crouched by his head and the metallic snap of a knife sounded loud in his ear. Nate immediately stilled, feeling the cold steel edge rest gently in the crease where his ear met his skull. 

"Now, then. You gonna be a good little boy about this, shit-stain? Or do I have to hurt you some more? It doesn't raise my boner either way, but if you get squirrelly on me, I'm mad enough to put you in the fucking hospital. And I know enough to make it look like an accident. Plenty of clumsy frat-boy idiots fuck themselves up playing with knives. So! Grunt once if you understand me and you're not gonna be a dumbass."

Nate had not expected there to be a knife involved. All his fleeting thoughts of clubbing Joseph on the head with his joined wrists, or getting his hands around Joseph's neck and choking him out, or kicking him down to the ground, evaporated immediately. Nate grunted once through his gag, terrified that the knife would cut his ear. The knife was slowly removed. Nate jumped when, a second later, he heard a snapping noise, but it was just Joseph cutting the zip-tie that bound his wrists to his ankles. Nate's legs and chest immediately flopped down flat, and he laid limp as Joseph closed the knife, flipped him over, and dragged him by his bound arms to the sling.

Slinging him around like a particularly unwieldy piece of furniture, Joseph sat Nate up, positioning his arms over the first loop and bending his knees over the second. He stepped away, and Nate heard the clicking of the hydraulic pump as the sling lifted him off the ground. The loops cinched tight under his back, through his armpits, and under his knees as they took his weight. Nate quickly realized he would fall straight onto his tailbone on the concrete if he unbent his knees, and tightened his legs. Joseph, having come back around to the front of the swing, observed this and let out a harsh laugh. 

"Yeah, you noticed you can't exactly get down by yourself, huh? Smart - even a short fall like that would break your tailbone, and you know how long it takes those to heal. Like I said - don't be a dumbass." He dug in the duffel, returning with a pair of thick black canvas double-grommet belts. Working quickly, he slung them around Nate's shins and thighs, cinching his legs tightly in their bent position over the bottom loop of the swing. The knife appeared again for a brief, terrifying second, and the zip-tie holding his ankles together was gone. His ankles spread and his body swung and repositioned as he tried to rebalance.

"You can't fall, idiot," Joseph pointed out. "And it'll take your weight, no problem. I've put girls who weigh more you do in this thing." He stepped in closer to Nate's swaying form, looking at his awkward position critically. He made some adjustments to the swing, and Nate quickly found himself staring at his own thighs, eyes level with the belts where they dug in to his goose-bumped flesh. His knees bumped together almost a foot above his head, and his armpits ached and burned. He could tense his abs and back muscles to lift his torso a bit, but it didn't get him anywhere and hurt like fuck besides. He felt the cool morning air on his wet skin and shivered.

What the fuck did Joseph have planned?


	4. Gut Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has hella CBT in it.

"Yup, that'll work," Joseph said. Nate couldn't see him around his own legs, but he could tell Joseph was grinning. He heard the susurrus of the hose being pulled through the grass, then jumped as the cold brass nozzle end and about 6" of slimy, muddy plastic hose was shoved through the meat of his thighs. It pointed dead at his face. He began desperately trying to pull his legs apart in hopes it would fall out and under him, but he had no leverage and the hose stayed put. He heard the squeak of the faucet just in time to gasp in a breath and shut his eyes before the cold water hit him full-blast. Joseph took his time returning from the faucet, and by the time he dragged the hose back through Nate's thighs, Nate wasn't too proud not to gasp for breath around his sodden gag.

"You probably thought that was pretty mean, huh, shit-stain? You probably think I'm being an unreasonable asshole right now. But keep in mind who started this: you, and your dumbfuck drinking habits. And that shit's gonna make a turnaround real quick, because I'm not having you ruin my fucking furniture."

Joseph stood back, and, blinking the water out of his eyes, Nate realized he had put on a pair of the black heavy-duty latex work gloves that they used when they were doing oil changes. "Because you're such a big fucking baby, not only did you make a fucking fudge factory out of your underoos, but you won't even clean your own ass afterward. So now I gotta fucking do it _for_ you."

Nate immediately began to jerk and thrash - or at least he tried to. The swing gave him absolutely no leverage whatsoever, and all he did was wiggle a bit and gall his armpits and the backs of his knees. He suddenly realized what the swing, the belts, and the bizarre positioning were for, and his gut sank. Joseph chuckled at the look on his face.  
"Yeah, kick and squirm all you want, shit-stain. But you're getting clean - inside and out. And if you don't hold still, you'll be half-drowned _and_ hitting high notes for a good long time. This swing gives me a perfect angle on your junk, and I'm already having to talk myself out of giving you a solid kick to the stones just to remind you who's in charge right now and keep you quiet."

Nate knew he was right. His junk was totally compressed between his thighs, squashed out into the chilly air on the other side of his bent legs. His cock and balls dangled entirely unprotected, right in front of Joseph.  
"So shut the fuck up and stay still, you hear me?" Joseph stepped close, snapping out his words like a drill instructor. "I don't wanna hear no loud shit through that gag, and I don't wanna see you move a fucking muscle once I start. Do you understand?"  
Nate nodded quickly, not making eye contact. He didn't want to hear that knife again, and he was pretty sure that if Joseph kicked him in the balls in this position, he'd puke. He didn't want to puke with the t-shirt in his mouth.

Without warning, Joseph aimed the hose at his junk. Nate gasped around the gag and bit down hard, willing himself to stay quiet - both because of Joseph's warning and because of his own pride. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction! The hard stream of water drove into his exposed taint, not so much rinsing him off as scouring him with the spray the same way he would get caked-on mud off of tires. Joseph switched sides to run the stream up and down his crack, drumming cold against him where he knew the worst of the mess was. Suddenly, the water shot straight on his hole, exposed and easily accessed by his positioning but still tightly clenched. He bit down so hard he felt grit on the fabric between his teeth as Joseph lazily made small circles on his sphincter with the rushing water.

The water dropped away as Joseph tossed the hose into the grass. He crouched close to Nate, face nearly level with his shins. "No fuckin' wriggling, now," he cautioned, squirting dish soap on his wet gloves.

A strong, confident grip snared his balls in the sac, pulling them taut. Nate moaned in fear as Joseph slowly stretched his balls down farther than he'd ever pulled on them himself. A groan of pain escaped him and his entire groin tensed against the pull, as if he could retract them if he tried hard enough. His gut rolled, and he could feel his stomach rebelling - both ways. He swallowed spasmodically at the faint taste of bile at the back of his tongue from the nausea caused by the sadistic attention to his sac, and panted shallowly while his bowels clenched against the shifting of the rest of the mess he knew was still inside him.

His nuts felt crushed, choked slowly but surely down to the bottom of his sac. He knew from the level of tension that the skin there had to be stretched so firm it was shiny, and his balls had to be purple, bulging and veiny beyond belief. His quads and calves started to tremor as they tensed desperately against the terrible, inexorable pull at his groin.

The cold rubber fingers of Joseph's other hand wrapped firmly around his stretched sac, and he started to scrub his skin _hard_.

Even with the slickness of the dish soap, the rubber yanked at his pubic hair and skidded rough over his skin. There was so much grinding pressure, it felt like Joseph was trying to see if he could make his fingers touch his thumb _through_ the super-taut flesh. Joseph was clearly less concerned with getting him clean than with making him suffer. 

After what felt like forever, Joseph's scrubbing assault on his sac stopped - but the grip on his balls stayed firm. Joseph wrung another long groan out of Nate as he slowly rotated his wrist, pulling his balls up at a sharp angle to his stretched sac. He was held there, panting so hard it bordered on hyperventilating, terrified of what would come next but knowing it was inevitable. The grip stilled for so many long seconds, Nate was actually able to start to get his breathing under control.

And then the icy rubber fingers returned, scouring his hyper-sensitive balls in the tight trap of what felt like the very last _inch_ of his sac. 

Though every cell in his body cried out for him to scream, Nate found he could make no sound at all. His mouth gaped as far as the gag permitted, his throat was open, he breathed out - but all that escaped was a whistling gasp. Joseph's answering laugh echoed in Nate's ears as he gave his choked balls a nasty squeeze. 

"You know the best part, shit-stain? Not only can I get you clean, I can bruise you in places you never knew could bruise."

Nate drew in a vast, shuddering breath, and was about to try another shout when the pressure on his balls reduced sharply. Suddenly but firmly, the grip on his balls allowed them to retract, every inch of the quick ascent controlled by the iron grip. The held breath exploded from Nate's chest in a relieved exhale, the over-stressed muscles of his groin, glutes, thighs and calves which had been resisting that terrible pull all failing at once. All strength exhausted, he hung totally limp, unable to move or even grunt as the steel circle of Joseph's grip finally released his abused sac.

The relief was exquisite...until the rush of blood to the over-stretched area began lighting up every nerve available with a mixture of sharp static prickles and the searing heat of overstretched bands of muscle. A whimper tore from his throat as his leg muscles locked up again and he swung a little in his restraints. He was somehow wholly unprepared for the firm, soapy stroke down and over his entire sac, curling gently around his hyper-sensitive balls and lower scrotum. He seized in fear of the return of that implacable grip wringing more pain from him, but none came, aside from the uncomfortable tug of the textured rubber against his pubes. He relaxed by degrees, terrified to trust that the pain was over, but unable to stay tensed against it for long.

Finally, the focus seemed to be back on getting him clean - which Nate thanked God for. 

The cold, rubbery fingers returned to scrub his inner thigh and groin muscles in the same punishing fashion as his balls had been subjected to. He tried to tense, but his failing muscles only managed a weak flex. Luckily, it seemed, he was not intentionally hurt again. After a few rounds of tensing in anticipation of severe pain that never came, Nate gave up fighting - not because he wanted to, but because his system demanded it. He hung there, wriggling occasionally, as everything from his thighs to his lower back were soaped, scrubbed, and rinsed, one area at a time. The blast of cold hose water was a shock every time, but he managed only a weak groan.

The spray fell away from him, the soapy rubber scouring did not return, and Nate found himself gasping for breath in the sudden _lack_ of overstimulation. He heard some noises that he slowly processed as Joseph digging in the duffel bag, and snapped his eyes open wide, looking for any clue about what was coming next.


	5. Hosed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kinks take a HARD LEFT into strange shit and absolutely all of it is non-consensual. VERY unsafe practices used. Sadism, puppy play, more humiliation, mild objectification, cock and ball bondage, chastity, enemas, retention games, anal plugs, remote control vibrators, mild genderfuckery-based humiliation, predicament bondage, begging, chastity and aggressive bathroom use control. Seriously, DO NOT give anyone an enema with a garden hose, EVER, it's NOT safe. But it's hot to write about!
> 
> The plug used in this chapter is just a standard butt plug - nothing designed for retention games, but good enough for short-term holding for a shell-shocked Nate.

His confusion only grew when Joseph returned with some sort of...plastic ring? cone? thing? Whatever it was, it was soon out of his limited field of vision and down near his unprotected, recently-scrubbed, hypersensitive junk.

He managed to squirm a bit as it was expertly furled and cinched around his cock and balls, a soft-yet-strong curtain of sensation between himself and his genitals. A few odd, deft manipulations of his shaft and balls later, he felt a tug and a gentle warm sensation. A slightly cool, unyielding substance - metal? - slid and clicked into place. He felt his cock flare traitorously against the restriction, then settle, softening in his confusion. 

He startled as Joseph chuckled. "Ach, it's a shame, isn't it, m'darlin'?" he drawled, copping a terrible Irish accent. "Turrible, innit, when the big ol' Irish wolf-hound ends up hung like a wee cairn terrier?" 

Nate writhed. It was true; he felt he was a shower, not a grower, and he didn't have much to show for six-foot-...well, whatever. How did Joseph _know _all this shit? Through the buzzing in his ears he heard "...gotta keep you clean, you mutt, teach you not to potty in the house." He snapped to attention.

"I guess it's proper that you've got a chihuahua-sized doggy cone of shame around your junk. I got that part of you clean, and there's still quite a lot of you that needs a wash - I don't want to worry about having to clean your own mess off you _twice."_

Nate whimpered. Joseph was on him in a second, right up in his face: "You're a little chihuahua, aren't you? Whimper twice for yes." No options were offered for a "no," he noted, the threat simply hanging there, suspended in the air and dangling just like he was. _Best to just go along with it,_ he thought.

_Whine, whine._

"Good boy," Joseph said immediately. "Two whimpers if you think you're ready to try big-boy words without that gag in."

_Whine, whine._

"Mhmm, yeah," Joseph said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. "I don't agree, my li'l buddy. I think you're not even house-trained yet, and you'd have to prove yourself for that -_and_ tail training - before I'd even _consider_ allowing you to try something like diaper training."

Nate, overwhelmed by the bizarre sensations around his cock and terrified by the idea of what "tail training" and "diaper training" could possibly mean, made a miserable groan which seeped through his gag.

"Oh?" Joseph responded. "You disagree? You think you're ready for house-training? Can you be a good puppy, hmm?"

There was nothing for it but to play along. 

_Whine, whine._

"Well. We'll see about that, won't we. First, we need to set a proper example."

Nate clenched his teeth in worry as Joseph headed out of his limited line of sight, flinching as he heard him pick up the hose again and begin screwing off the pressure-wash nozzle.

* * *

What felt like an hour later but was likely simply a minute or two, Nate heard the wet raspberry noise of a thick liquid being squeezed from a tube. A split second later, Joseph's rubberized palm slapped a sloppy handful of cold lube right over his spread, still-clenched, dirty hole. It was thick enough to stay put, a sensation that Nate barely had time to process as utterly disgusting. Suddenly, he felt a rounded metal edge press hard against his outer ring. He gasped and tried to fishtail away from it, but only succeeded in wiggling in the sling a little. Joseph laughed.

"No, you're not getting away from this, you little skid mark. Your asshole is so filthy, you deserve to be washed out with the fucking yard hose."

Did Joseph mean he was going to shove the hose in his ass and turn it on? _No fucking way,_ Nate thought,_ It's not possible, no one in their right mind would - _

"Yeah, you heard me, dumbfuck. I'm going to clean your muddy ass out with the yard hose. When I'm done, I'll let you down and we'll see if you can hold it long enough to shit in the yard like a good puppy."

"Nnnf, plff, Josfff," Nate tried to beg around his gag, beginning to cry.

"Shut up, shit-stain, and take what's coming to you."

Again the cold, ribbed brass nozzle of the hose pressed against his tightly-puckered anus, slipping in the lube Joseph had applied.

"Come on, give it up. You don't want me to have to force this in."

"Nnnff, plff, plfff - " Nate tried to scream into his gag, no longer able to care about being quiet as he felt the inexorable pressure of the chilly metal. He found quickly that his mouth was stuffed too tightly for his sounds to permeate beyond it. Tears streamed down his face as he tensed his body in every way he could think of to prevent the intrusion.

"I _said,"_ Joseph grunted, dropping the hose and reaching between Nate's cheeks, "You _don't_ want me to have to force it. But now that's just what you're gonna get, for being an uncooperative turd."

A thick, rubbery finger slicked through the lube clinging to his messy crack, and the direct pressure of Joshua's digits assaulted Nate's sore, over-spread hole. Within seconds, his trembling rings had failed and Joseph had forced a finger into Nate's anal canal. It was the first time anything had entered Nate's anus, and he clenched hard against it, trying desperately to shit out the intruder. Not only did this not dissuade Joseph in the slightest, he crammed a second finger inside.

Not giving Nate even a second to adjust to the pain of the forced stretch of his sphincters, Joseph began fucking the two fingers in and out of him. Nate moaned incoherently and sobbed into his gag as his virgin hole was penetrated deeply and fucked raw by a pair of rough-textured rubber digits. Although the lube had eased the entry somewhat, Nate felt as if he could feel every nub and wrinkle in the gloves. Josh's knuckles seemed as big as speed-bumps, forcing his pucker open again and again as he was inexorably fucked in-and-out, in-and-out. To his shame, which seemed bottomless, Nate found that he could feel his mess, the grit of his accident mixing with the lube. It felt like sand, and Nate hung there miserable, getting his ass stretched out with his own watery shit as lube and totally unable to stop it.

Joseph fingers drove deep inside one final time, then pulled completely out. Nate barely had time to gasp in a breath when Joseph unceremoniously crammed the ridged brass nozzle of the garden hose past his reeling sphincters. Although it happened very quickly, Nate could feel every single one of the nozzle's raised ridges run roughshod over his incredibly sensitive insides. His body fought the intrusion, but failed almost immediately, and the hose was seated deep in his rectum. 

"Don't you dare shit that out," Joseph growled. "I'm going to go turn the hose on now. You better clench down real tight on that hose and pray it stays where I put it. If it slips out, I'll cut your fucking balls off."

Nate's entire groin was a throbbing fire of pain, and the pain in his hole was so bad the _last_ thing he wanted to do was tighten down on it, but he clenched his glutes hard. He wasn't sure exactly how serious Joseph was about that threat, but he sure as hell didn't want to find out.

"Good boy," Joseph praised, seeing the tension in Nate's body. "You keep your shit-cutter nice and tight, now." 

He paced away, and Nate heard the squeak of the spigot. 

* * *

Nate felt the water begin coursing into his bowels immediately, the cold sensation feeling almost as if it was working its way up his spine rather than into his guts. He groaned and shifted, acutely aware that if Joseph turned the tap on any harder, he'd be totally fucked. He'd filled enough water balloons to know that even apparently slow water pressure could bloat him quickly, and even worse, he'd shit out the hose almost immediately. He clenched hard on the hose, even though he could feel every ridge of the brass nozzle in his abused rectum.

Joseph reappeared by his head. 

"Good job, you successfully kept your hole shut for the first time in, oh..." he made a show of looking at a non-existent watch, "The last two hours or so. Way to go, shit-stain! Shows progress."

Nate could feel the chilly water fill him deeper and deeper. He knew that it had to stop, that eventually the water would reach deep enough inside him, past whatever mess his accident of the morning had cleared out. He had already known he was in for an upset stomach that day - had banked on it while drinking the night before, in fact - and he'd eaten fire-hot wings and washed them down with Guinness. The wings always gave him thorny, capsaicin-laced shits that burned hard, but as the Guinness often gave him wet farts, he figured in for a penny, in for a pound. That was something he could deal with _tomorrow_, right? Plus, those other guys had been buying - why not make the most of it?

He could feel his guts start cramping in earnest now, both in protest at the cold water and at the slow swelling of his abdomen in his crunched-up position, dangling in the sling. _Please don't make me shit like this,_ he begged Joseph silently._ Please stop this sick fucking game and just let me use a toilet like a normal human being! _He was unable to stop himself from moaning in pain as his guts slowly filled.

Joseph missed nothing. "Yeees? Does the little puppy need to go potty, hmm?" he sung out in a smug voice.

_Oh god, why does he have to **talk** like that? What is **wrong** with him?_ Nate writhed in the sling, as much in physical discomfort as in humiliation. His ass was so full of water he thought he would pop, and whatever came out of him would be incredibly painful, which would be partly due to his roommate tying him up and finger-fucking his ass with textured oil-change gloves on! This was_ horrible!_ And to be baby-talked to, like a dog, like a child - it was _disgusting_.

But what other choice did he have? His ass was rebelling, slowly shoving out the hose, slick with mud, lube, and shit. He tried desperately to clench, but his sphincters spasmed in pain and ignored him, relaxing centimeter by centimeter and letting the hose slip out.

Joseph chuckled.

"When are you going to realize, shit-smear, that_ I'm_ the one in charge? You'll never get anywhere with that stubborn bullshit. If I have to cram a hose up your filthy starfish and fill you full of water until you're desperate to shit just to get you to admit you were wrong, I'll fucking do it."

Nate bit down on his gag, panicking. He could feel the ridges of the hose inside his rectum as they scraped closer and closer to his puffy, throbbing anus. 

"So, I'm going to give you a chance. Whine twice for me if you want to prove you can be housebroken. Or you can stay stubborn, and let that hose drop and shit all over yourself for the second time today. If you choose the second option, I'll beat your cornhole with a spoon until it swells shut before I even _consider_ letting you in the house again."

There was no other option. He knew he had maybe a minute or two before the hose forced its way out and his bowels made the choice for him.

_Whine, whine._

"Good boy," came the immediate praise, and the squeak of the spigot turning off followed quickly thereafter. Nate shivered and whimpered, cold and still very, very uncomfortable. His guts sloshed and gurgled, trying to retain their swollen load. 

"Yeah, I know, your bottom hurts, doesn't it?" Joseph said in a saccharine-sweet tone. "I warned you." He dug in the duffel bag. "You won't like this next part, but it'll help you hold it long enough to go potty in the yard like a good puppy."

Nate felt the hose jostle as Joseph grabbed it and clenched automatically, even though he wanted nothing more than to have the slimy hose out of him.

"It's all right, puppy," Joseph soothed. "You have permission to let the hose go - but NOT to take a dump. You hear me, you dumb mutt?"

_Whine, whine._

"You better pull that pucker tight once I have the hose out. No leaks. I have something that will help, but you have to hold it until I get it in."

_Whine, whine._

Joseph gave the hose the slightest downward pressure, and it slithered out easily, dropping to the concrete with a ring of brass and a lubed splat.

"Hold it, puppy," he ordered. Nate did not have to fake his whimpers and whines as he forced his hole, desperate to loose its load, to shut tight on nothing. 

"Good boy," Joseph praised. There was a pause that seemed to last ages. Finally, he said, "Here's your help," and a thick rubbery tip pressed against his clenched sphincter. It was torturous trying to relax enough to allow in the intruder without releasing his bowels, but he managed it, gritting his teeth against the gag and moaning as his hole gave way just enough to allow him to maintain his dignity for a few precious minutes longer.

"Okay, puppy," Joseph's voice came. "Let's get you on all fours, shall we?" 

_Whine, whine._

"Good boy." The belts on his legs dropped, one at a time, and Nate stretched his legs, seeking balance down to the ground as quickly as he dared. He was allowed to sag to the concrete of the patio, and the zip ties binding his arms were released. He curled helplessly on the concrete, shivering and sloshing inside. Joseph let him rest for a minute, but soon dug in the nearby duffel bag, securing a pair of nylon wrist and ankle cuffs on him before standing over him.

"Let's get going, pup. On your hands and knees - dogs don't walk on two legs."

Nate shuffled into a hands-and-knees position, cringing and moaning as the plug shifted in his anal canal and his guts grumbled loudly. "Oh, _stop,"_ Joseph said, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You're _fine_. I haven't even had to use the ol' Sparky-Barky on you yet. Just do as you're told. It's not hard, is it, puppy?" 

A nylon dog collar snapped around his neck, and a thin, strong nylon leash tugged him - toward the **yard**, not the house_._

"Follow!" 


	6. Puppy Puddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first plug I had Nate use last chapter is a standard butt plug. The one in this chapter is kinda nuts: I combined a couple different toy functionalities here, creating a puppy tail butt plug with a vibrator counterweight at the tip of the tail forcing it to wag, which apparently can also be connected to a bulb/valve and inflated as well as used as an enema nozzle and retention aid. These things exist separately (search "remote vibrating pup tail" and "bardex nozzle", respectively) but I wanted a smoother transition back inside and increased confusion for poor Nate as to what's in his overstuffed butt.

Nate resisted, whining loudly. Joseph turned, an irritated expression on his face. 

"Come_ on,_ puppy. I said you'd have the chance to prove you can be housebroken. I didn't say it would be right _now."_

Nate desperately glanced back over his shoulder at the door back into the house.

"Don't even _think_ about it, Princess," Joseph said, his voice confident. "I'll boot you in the nuts so hard, you'll squirt black and blue instead of white. Besides, you'll never make it." His tone darkened. "And if I'm willing to do all this because you shit on my couch, what do you think I'll do if you shit on the _carpet?"_

Nate felt frozen, totally unable to move, pinned like a bug on a card by the sheer intensity of Joseph's gaze. It promised so much more in store for him, brimming with clear threat and a sadistic gleam Nate had never seen before. 

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Joseph laughed. "Naughty dogs that can't be housebroken and shit on the carpet get neutered. They can't be trusted to control their bowels - do you think they can be trusted to breed? Hell, no."

Nate gasped around the gag. _He has to be kidding, he **has** to be - _

"Oh yes, Princess. You're going to learn that you can be trained in _so_ many different ways. Chastity and orgasm training? Well, that's always a pleasure - for me, anyway. You won't nut unless and until you're given permission - and if you have trouble with _that_ concept, well...I can always replace your balls with Neuticles."

Nate shivered in terror, unable to break the gaze.

"Now, then," Joseph said, taking a half-step toward him and allowing the leash to go slack. "Let's set a proper example. If you want to be a good boy, show me where a well-trained puppy should go potty."

Nate dithered, the audibly gurgling mess in his guts causing him to writhe and squirm. The plug was helping, but it wouldn't for much longer. He had to do what Joseph said. There was no other choice. He would have to pretend to be...a dog. A puppy, shitting in the yard on cue, its master standing over it watching - and worse, _praising_ him! He hated that disgusting sing-song voice Joseph used-!

Nate took a shivering breath around the gag, and, maintaining eye contact, slid forward and put his palms into the grass. He hoped this would show Joseph his obedience - his first "steps" into the yard on all-fours. Joseph watched him for a beat, then smiled sarcastically and turned away, tugging the leash. 

"Come on, mutt, let's get you into the yard so you can unload."

* * *

Nate scrambled after Joseph on all fours, slipping a little on the still-slick grass. He was led to the remains of his earlier mud-and-mess puddle. 

"Here's where you'll go potty, puppy."

Joseph hooked the leash into the gap between the sole and heel of the boots he always wore, planted his foot in the mud, and tugged upwards. Nate was forced to follow, ending up on all fours at Joseph's side, staring down at the tops of his boots with his head at about knee level. 

"You'll need to bend over and spread your bottom if you want me to get that plug out," he said pointedly, as if explaining something very simple to someone not very bright.

Nate writhed in shame, but knew he had scant minutes to get permission to shit before his guts made the decision for him. He went to his elbows in the dirt and reached one hand back to pull his left cheek away from the base of the plug. _Please don't make me use both hands and plant my face in this muck, please, **please** \- _

There was a long pause, but finally Joseph gripped the base of the plug and slowly pulled it out in a corkscrew motion. The unnecessary friction against his abused hole smarted, and Nate groaned as the plug came loose.

"Ready to go potty?" Joseph asked brightly, in that too-cheerful how-much-is-that-doggie-in-the-window voice. 

_Whine, whine._

"Good puppy!" he was praised as Joseph shook the leash free of his boot. "Now, squat. _Squat_, doggy." The latter statement snapped out as a command.

Gritting his teeth against making a recognizably rude response through the gag, Nate gingerly pulled each leg up up from balancing on his knees to squatting with knees and ankles bent. Joshua made small changes to his posture by tugging on the leash and kicking his feet apart more. He ended up wobbling on the balls of his feet in a deep crouch, knees rammed into armpits as his hands were directed to rest behind his head, back as ramrod straight as he could manage. The muscles of his abdomen tightened hard against the bulge of both his bladder and the incipient mess swelling in his bowels.

He began to whimper and whine as his own body weight and stress positioning forced him to clench down even harder than he had before. He rocked back and forth in the squat, alternating between tensing his stinging hole and glutes, and squeezing his thighs shut on his cock. His ass felt packed full of the worst possible shit, which he knew would probably tear him a new one and burn like fuck besides, and his bladder was cramping in a way that would have had him desperately searching for a dumpster had it happened during a pub crawl. He knew he was leaking a few drops of piss every time he focused on stopping his sphincters from releasing, but he also knew that if he just let go with a full stream from either end of himself without permission, he'd pay for it.

Luckily, Joseph didn't torture him for long. "Good puppy, c'mon, you can do it!" he cheered sarcastically. "Go on! Bear down, li'l buddy."

Nate ground his teeth on his gag and managed one deep breath before his body did what it had been increasingly desperate to do since early that morning. He trembled in the difficult position as he felt his hole shoved open from the inside by an awful rush of gritty water preceding a massive, thorny shit. It began to press out of him, fucking open his sore sphincter from the inside out. He felt the burn of the capsaicin flare against the over-stretched places in his anal ring, the muscle beginning to contract and release around the nauseously rough texture and acknowledging no input from him whatsoever.

Nate let out his breath in an extended painful groan as the itching, tearing, burning sensation worked its way through his rectum. Normally he'd sweat and swear his way through a session on the toilet like this, past experience having taught him he would need to fight and bear down for every rocky inch his body pushed out, but the enema made that impossible. The water pressure alone shoved the punishing contents of his bowels straight out through his hole and onto the ground, the pebbly, spicy shits shoving their way out of his hole just as fast and hard as Joseph had finger-fucked into it earlier.

Despite the pain and challenging new sensations, he felt wave after wave of relief as his anus flexed and released over and over, and the contents of his ass were ripped out of him and deposited into the dirt. Although his guts cramped hard throughout the entire process due to the cool water being forced through them, the chilly water helped dilute the capsaicin. It even helped him weather the worst of the searing stretch of the inner and outer sphincters of his virgin hole as he helplessly shat in front of his roommate, who simply held his leash and _watched._

Nate was barely able to manage a guttural moan as the sound of splattering filled his corner of the yard. He could never have imagined that one human being could hold so much! He felt absolutely disgusting, like a pig wallowing in shit. He felt the cycles come: his stomach cramping, which led to his bladder cramping. His bladder letting go, a hot wash that hit his belly button, then dripped down his junk and taint. The little spikes of pain around his rim, stinging as the urine seeped into the tiny tears caused by recent hasty stretch of his anus to accommodate his roommate's torturous whims. His hole eventually relaxing into the warmth of the piss trickling across his exposed sphincter, twitching and releasing a burning stream into the mud. And repeat, over and over again. He felt he would never stop.

But eventually, his bloated guts and bladder ran dry, and Nate was slowly able to regain control of his PC muscles and puffy, hypersensitive pucker. He was left shaking in the mud, barely balancing on the balls of his feet in a puddle of his own combined wastes. Joseph waited a long few minutes after Nate's last set of moans and leaking orifices, seemingly waiting him - or his body - out before moving on to the next horrible step of whatever his bizarre plan was.

* * *

Finally he spoke. 

"Okay, puppy. You done going potty?"

Nate drew in a shuddering breath. This was still how he had to play it. Despite doing everything Joseph said, despite submitting to this ridiculous punishment, despite literally shitting in the yard on cue, Joseph somehow wasn't done humiliating him. What could he possibly have planned? Nate's head spun.

"Puppy." There was a warning tone in Joseph's voice, clear as a bell.

_Whine, whine._

"Attaboy. Down on all fours, now."

Nate gingerly got down on his hands and knees, doing his best to avoid balancing directly in the mess. He only succeeded by spreading his limbs wide. As he shifted position, he could feel the grit and chill of the cooling mix of piss and shit clinging to what felt like his entire groin. 

"You think you can go in the house without having an accident?" 

_Whine, whine._

Joseph laughed. "Stupid fucking mutt. How are you going to go back in the house like that? Your cheeks are covered in shit for the second time today, you dumb little puppy."

Nate ducked his head in shame. What else was he supposed to do? What game was this? He couldn't figure this out, and the only path forward seemed to be to follow Joseph's instructions without thinking, allowing himself to be directed as obediently as possible. If you went along with what someone said, they eventually had to trust you enough to stop, right? This punishment _had_ to end at some point. 

"Come on, you inbred shit-stain, let's get you cleaned up." Joseph tugged the leash back toward the porch, stopping Nate a few feet into the grass.

"Elbows in the grass, and plant your face down by your hands," he directed. Nate slowly bent the lower half of his body down, his back twitching in occasional pain - he was not particularly flexible, and the sling had been hard. 

"Keep your ass in the air," he was ordered. He shivered all over, and forced himself to obey. Joseph had already seen everything up-close and personal in the sling anyway, he told himself. 

"Yes, that's the way, good boy. Show me what a smart puppy you are. Use your paw, come on."

Nate balanced on one elbow, reaching back with the other hand to touch his cheek.

"There we go, yes. Spread your hole wide open."

Nate hesitated.

Joseph's voice rang out, gut-wrenchingly loud to Nate's hypersensitive ears. "Now show me where a good puppy would need water to go, for him to be all clean?"

Nate scrambled to pull his cheeks as wide as possible with one hand. He felt the sting as the stretched places in his pucker protested against the stretch. and he knew he was an absolutely disgusting mess. But he needed to get clean - even if it was with the hose, even if it was face-down-ass-up in the grass, it was worth it to be really **_clean_** for the first time since he regained consciousness this morning.

"Attaboy," Joseph said, in a much lower pitch. The spigot squeaked, and the slick, filthy hose that had very recently become the deepest intrusion into his ass in his entire life spat to life next to him. He shuddered away from it, as much in revulsion at what he knew coated it as from fear it would be employed similarly again.

But Joseph simply gripped the hose further back and dragged it through the grass a few times, wiping the majority of the mess off. He used his rubber gloves to handle the rest, scrubbing off the mess on the hose with the dish soap while Nate waited kneeling in the mud, being splashed by the cold, scummy foam. 

Once the hose was clean, it was turned on his hole again with no warning. Nate startled, but did not slip out of position as the cool stream scoured away the humiliating mess he'd made of himself. He finally understood Joseph's earlier insistence that he stop clenching his hole in order to get clean, when he had been doing wall squats. The hard stream drummed against his abused sphincter, forcing little squirts of water in and out of him. His hole felt battered enough that he was fairly sure he couldn't stop them if he tried. 

A rubbery palm filled with cool, slick dish soap slapped unexpectedly against his taint and hole, jarring him forward. His face nearly hit the mud as he lost his grip on his cheek, the pain overriding all of his senses. His sore, puffy pucker radiated agony, and his taint _burned_. He must have screamed into his gag, because Joseph's other hand gripped the back of his neck hard. 

"You better shut up and hold still while I clean you, puppy. Be grateful I'm even considering letting you back in the house."

Nate slumped, senses so confused he actually _did_ feel vaguely grateful.

The cold, slippery gloves soaped him from abdomen to lower back, moving smoothly and methodically. Nate occasionally tensed at any firm grips, expecting his balls or hole to be tortured as before, but it never came. He realized belatedly from the pattern of scrubbing that the worst of the mess seemed to be between his cheeks, his family jewels protected from his accident by whatever Joseph had slung around them. His skin, formerly slicked by the soap, began to tug against the rigid thing clamped around his cock as the soap washed away.

He gasped as rubbery fingers probed his hole, and breathed hard into his gag as they slipped humiliatingly easily past his anal ring and made a quick circuit of his insides. He whined and squirmed as his prostate was slyly targeted, a couple quick and deft figure-eights making it clear it was no accident - _and_ forcing his anus, already stinging from the stretch and the soap, to contract even harder around the bumpy intrusions. 

"Poor shit-stain," Joseph crooned. "I know how to make this feel just good enough to make it worth it for you not to fight me. 'Cause I'm done with this sophomoric shit. You're not getting away with it any more, not on my watch. I'm gonna see just how well you respond to training, little puppy. And _you_ are gonna find out just how deep the rabbit hole goes."

"And this little rabbit hole," he said, wiggling his fingers, "Is nice and squeaky clean - for now, anyway. Which means it's time to make you feel good right from here for a little while. And what a surprise, you're a little backed up. Seems my little puppy just doesn't get on too well with the bitches, hmm?" 

Joseph punctuated his question with another figure-eight along his prostate. the sting of the soap making it difficult to stop squirming and impaling himself even more on the intruding digits.

"Oh, the poor little thing. The soap makes it hard to feel good, doesn't it? Well, let's wash that off." The fingers withdrew shockingly quickly.

The cold stream of the hose scoured him clean, and Nate felt himself intentionally flexing his hole open against the pressure, hoping for relief from the burning irritation inside and out. He managed a four-or-five-second gape, which quickly ballooned his anal canal with chilly water. He immediately started whimpering, regretting his decision as he realized he would now have to beg for permission to release that water, too. But Joseph just laughed.

"It's okay, little pup. Come on, up on your back paws and squat."

He shivered, but squatted in the dirt, recently-vacated and still-soapy hole dripping water to the ground below.

"Go ahead. It's just water, now."

He hated it even more than before, being _ordered_ to release his bowels, _encouraged_ even! Told when and how to go, and how to sit and stand and squat. It was horrible. But he _**had**_ to go, and every humiliation made him feel more helpless. He just had to do what Joseph told him. There was no other way.

Nate bore down, wanting to be rid of the pressure as quickly as possible. He did _not_ want to suffer through another round of holding his sloshing bowels. He forced the water out of his twitching hole in short spurts, pure humiliation clenching his iris shut against his will. He fought each time to re-start the flow, and although he had been well cleaned-out earlier, he could feel deeper rumblings. He wanted the water out of him while he was still allowed to let it out!

Finally, he felt safe to resume the prior position. He tried to spread his cheeks, but the grass and mud made him slip, and finally Joseph simply said, "Hands and knees, mutt. He scrambled to obey, facing away for the chilly spray of the hose and a final rinse, He heard the hose drop and the spigot squeak, and Joseph reappeared next to him.

"Okay, little pup. Let's get you set up for some tail-training. A good pup deserves a nice, big tail."


	7. Pet's Predicament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one gets into litterbox training and genderfuck-y humiliation, a touch of sissification if you squint hard I guess. Extremely dangerous and inadvisable predicament bondage that no one should do in real life ever. More CBT, and Nate is given his first opportunity to make a choice on his own.

He was led back in the house _\- Thank GOD,_ he had time to think - and straight into the downstairs bathroom. Staggering on hands and knees, he was hyper-aware of every bruised inch of himself, both inside and out. He was unceremoniously dragged over the lip of the tub, elbows on one side in the bowl of the tub, knees on the other. A thick black bag hung suspended from the faucet what seemed like six feet overhead, bulging with god-knew-what. He quailed and squirmed, gnawing his gag. A large, warm hand descended to his tailbone and - rubbed gently, in slow circles. He relaxed, almost against his will, confused by the different sensations. 

"Good boy. Remember, you're rewarded for good behavior," chimed Joseph's upbeat voice in his ear. A firm, lubricated pressure at his pucker, and all at once the fight was gone from him and the probe slid home. A strange hissing noise or two, a bizarre stretching feeling in his bottom, and he was being _inflated_.

The bulb swelled firm against his prostate, and suddenly Nate found the cone around his cock and balls and his - chastity cage? He still wasn't sure - a worrying...and slowly tightening...fit. A wriggle, a gut-clenching tug on the inflated line buried in his bottom, and a _click-!_ and Nate was introduced to the bizarrely pleasant sensation of being filled with warm water. Not a second or two after, with nearly no time to process the first sensation, he was introduced to another novelty: the roll and buzz of a vibrator which seemed to be connected directly to the thing on his cock.

He felt his dick twitch in response. At the same time, his hole spasmed weakly around the silicone intruder, attempting a shot at expelling it - and, failing immediately, clenching around it and swallowing it even deeper into his ass instead. "Seems that hole gets downright _thirsty_ when you're properly rewarded, huh?" Joseph laughed, in an almost fond tone of voice. As if he was a favored, dumb-but-trainable animal.

So why was whatever-that-thing-was around his cock and balls so _tight?_

The water made its way inside him, and he felt a vague sensation of fullness. It was hard to tell how much he had taken on with the distraction of his pinched and hardening cock, It seemed like all he could manage was to breathe shallowly and stare at the floor of the tub between his hands.

"Oh my goodness, what a good dog, taking all that for your Master," came the sneering voice from over his shoulder. "I appreciate your willingness to clean yourself out for me, but I want you to succeed in this, not fail."

There was a click, and the more immediate swelling in his gut stopped, but the gurgling and movement did not. The vibrator suddenly cut off, and Nate lurched forward against the cold side of he tub, feeling for the first time the weight of the water he'd taken on. He moaned. 

"Okay, shit-stain." The clicks sounded again and there was a tug. A thin hose dangled free in the tub next to him, dripping, but the thick silicone remained embedded deep in his hole. He was manhandled back onto the bathroom floor, facing the door this time, on all fours. Joseph's hand at the end of the leash, urging him forward... 

...toward the mirror. The _full-length _mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

He watched himself approach, crawling on hands and knees, his reflection a study in misery and forced compliance. Between the crack of his upraised cheeks, a fat, curved cone protruded, dangling back over his spine. Bobbing at the end as a counterweight, a large lump marked the source of the strange feeling in his anal canal that he could not place - a cordless remote vibrator. He watched it wag obscenely as he made his way slowly toward the mirror.

"Up, doggy. Up and look at yourself," Joseph ordered, yanking his leash short and pulling his collar tight.

Nate came up, balancing precariously on his knees, hands held delicately with wrists close to the chest in as submissive a posture as he felt he could manage. He looked at himself in the mirror, buck naked and wearing only cuffs and a miniature white dog cone around his cock and balls. No, not just that - smooth, clear plastic protruded from the tip of the cone, and he could finally see the chastity device that had been locked tightly around his junk.

"This little doggy," Joseph intoned, "Is going to get a lecture on house training and a punishment for going potty in the house._ If_ puppy can keep his tail in until his punishment is over, puppy can beg to use the litter box like an _indoor_ pet. If - and this is a big if! - this little doggy can wait that long."

_Whine, whine._

Another chuckle.

"Well, come along then, Princess," Joseph says, tugging him back down to all-fours. He was led out from the bathroom into the den, and walked right up to the couch. His gut fell, and his stomach clenched. The gurgle that followed produced many whimpers as Nate writhed to contain himself. To his surprise, Joseph didn't insult him further - just waited him out until he was able to stop shifting his weight from knee to knee and clenching against the plug.

"Good doggy," he was praised. His head was drawn slowly, inexorably toward the stain on the couch.

"Now then. Your lecture."

He whined like a scared dog.

"Naughty, naughty doggy," Joseph scolded. "You got on the couch, didn't you?"

_Whine, whine._

"You sure did, you bad dog. And then what, puppy? Did you have an _accident?"_

_Whine, whine._

"Yes, I see that. Well. Put your nose right here, hmm?" He indicated a spot just above the stain. Nate scrambled, hovering on his knees, hoping that Joseph wasn't serious, _he won't do it - please, no - _

"Good boy. Now, reach back and spread your cheeks for me so I can see your tail."

Nate buried one hand to the left of the stained cushion, reaching the other back and spreading his hole again, with no hesitation. _Just don't - don't make me stick my nose in it, not **really**, please - _

"Good boy, very good. Hold that for your punishment, as best you can. Five spanks with a rolled-up newspaper. You're just a puppy, after all." _I can do that,_ Nate thought. Yeah,_ I got this._

SLAP!

Nate rocked forward without even thinking as the oddly hollow, yet stingy sensation impacted across his upper thighs - and square into the back of the dog cone around his junk. He gasped around the gag, in mild shock from being hit so directly in the genitals and still processing the actual pain level of the blow.

"One."

WHAP! Nate sucked air as hard as he could, trying not to fishtail out of position. This was _bad - _

"Two!"

POP! An impact directly across the base of the plug holding the enema in, and he clenched helplessly against it, doing all he could to hold back the urge to expel the plug that dug into his guts. His otherwise-virgin hole wanted it _gone_ \- but it was the only thing helping him keep even one shred of dignity. 

"Three!"

Nate bit his gag and shuddered as his cock and balls took two more stinging blows. His junk was somewhat shielded by the cone, but the shock of being hit right in the balls made it a huge struggle to stay in position and not give in to the instinct to curl up and protect himself. Finally, "Five!" slammed into the base of his plug, and he moaned his way through it. 

"NO!" thundered Joseph. "BAD dog. You don't go potty in the house!"

Nate _howled_, not knowing what else to do.

"Are you a naughty puppy that doesn't deserve to be on the furniture?"

_Whine, whine._

"Yes, you are. But can you learn to be a good puppy?"

_Whine, whine._

"Yeah, you may have some potential, with the right trainer. First things first, though, you've got to clean up your mess. Strip the cover off the couch cushion."

Nate did as he was told, gingerly handling the cushion as he searched for the zipper. Slowly, shamefully, he stripped the cover off, flipping it inside-out to see how far his mess had penetrated. He winced when he saw that the cushion inside was ruined. However, the mess appeared to be confined only to the one section of the couch. He knelt and held the cover in one hand and the cushion in the other, the water sloshing in his guts behind the plug. 

"Yes, puppy, that's your mess. Stand up and bring both of those."

Nate stood, cringing, still not making eye contact with Joseph, who controlled his world from the other end of the leash. Nate allowed himself to be walked into the laundry room, and meekly followed instructions on rinsing the worst of his mess off the cushion cover and soaking it in stain remover. His guts roiled the entire time, and they could both hear him gurgle as he stood next to the washing machine shifting from foot to foot.

"You're doing the potty dance," Joseph observed. "You can't hold that for much longer, can you, skidmark?"

Nate shook his head, keeping his eyes down. 

"Back out on the back porch, then," Joseph said, tugging the leash.

\-----

He was walked back outside and positioned between the legs of the engine hoist again. 

"Grab your ankles," Joseph ordered. Nate hesitated, every line of his body betraying his fear. A position like that would put even more pressure on his very full and upset guts than even the enema he had gotten with the hose in the sling had. 

"Do it, shit-stain," Joseph said, threat clear in his tone.

Slowly, gingerly, Nate bent at the waist, curling over to grip his ankles and fighting the urge to straighten up the entire time. Joseph snapped two carabiners through the rings on his cuffs, quickly attaching his wrists to his ankles, preventing him from straightening up.

"I'm going to go get a few more things from the garage," Joseph informed him as he unclipped the triangular metal frame of the sex swing from the hoist's hook. "You stay put and stay quiet. Just remember, if you yell, you might get a neighbor over here...just in time to watch you become the human shit fountain. And with that tail-plug shoved up your ass, everyone is going to assume this is some kind of kinky sex game. So it's in your best interest to shut the fuck up and do what you're told."

_Whine, whine._

"I'm glad we understand each other," Joseph said. Reaching down, he grabbed the dangling leash, pulling it up firmly back between Nate's legs. Before Nate could figure out quite what he was doing, Joseph had wound the thin leash tightly around the base of the cone on his junk in coils that galled and pinched his flesh hard. Nate let out a startled groan, then grunted as Joseph yanked the handle end up. He snapped it into the engine hoist's hook, swinging free a few inches above the cheeks of Nate's ass, pulled tight as a drum by the difficult position. A few cranks of the handle, and Nate's junk was yanked back between his legs hard, the edges of the nylon digging into his crack like the world's most uncomfortable g-string. Nate whimpered as he went further and further up on his toes with each ratcheting noise.

"Now you'll stay put no matter what," Joseph said with a chuckle as he dropped the crank handle. "At least that leash will help you hold your plug and the filthy load you're carrying in." 

Nate found he could make no response, as all of his concentration was going to maintaining the stressful position.

"Let's give you something else to keep you busy, hmm? A little pleasure with your pain." The buzzing in his rectum returned, increasing on and off in intensity as the plug see-sawed slowly in and out of his clenching hole. It seemed he alternated in waves - for a few seconds, he'd feel it being pushed out a few millimeters by the pressure of the enema and the position, then sucked back in as he clenched desperately against soiling himself, and then _shoved_ back in by the taut leash as his balance tipped backward. Then he would correct his position and it would start all over again.

Joseph watched him for a few seconds, then walked away toward the gate and the garage, muttering something to himself. 

Nate balanced on the balls of his feet, trying minuscule shifts of his body weight in desperate search for some relief from either the pressure on his guts or the horrible stretch of his cock and balls, which were pulled tight against his taint and creeping closer and closer to his plugged and straining hole. He distantly heard Joseph banging around in the garage and the squeak of the side gate as he dragged some items back to the porch, but he was totally preoccupied with the agonized little dance he was performing as his body cried out for release in several different and incredibly urgent ways.

Finally, Joseph finished whatever he was doing and stepped back over to Nate. A clank and a hiss, and the leash relaxed enough for Joshua to slip it out of the hook. He dropped it, and Nate gasped as the pinching, burning stretch suddenly stopped. The carabiners at his wrists and ankles were removed, and he quickly sank into an all-fours position without being asked, sighing into his sodden gag in relief as the awful pressure in his guts decreased a notch.

He was not allowed to rest, however. He was tugged by his leash over to a large storage tote on the back porch, one of the short, shallow ones meant to slide under a bed. It was filled with the standard-issue kitty litter every jock-turned-mechanic keeps around to sop up the inevitable puddles of oil. 

"Okay, I know you're not a kitty, puppy, but it's your choice: release your load in the yard and stay the weekend as a puppy as your punishment - OR - release your load in the litter box to prove you're a domesticated animal...and maybe be allowed in the house."

Nate bucked his hips, sucking in the plug against the pressure building stronger inside him. The urge to release, and the knowledge that it would be an eventual _need_ to release, with no more ability to choose or attempt to pretend he could control his bottom any better than his cock, rocked him to his core. The pulses in his gut pulled the inflated bulb against his prostate, rubbing back and forth as the pressure shoved forward and he desperately clenched backward.

Trembling, he crawled over to the ersatz litter box and delicately squatted above it, looking backward over his shoulder. 


	8. Princess Pup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Litterbox use, cumming hands-free, more vibrating chastity cage and butt plug combo. Eventual mindbreak through lectures, humiliation, and threats of exposure. Nate's will gets broken down enough that he agrees with Joseph's more long-term plans for him...under duress, of course, but it doesn't matter to Joseph. He has a new project now.

"M-Mftr," Nate forced through the gag.

"Oh my goodness, the animal is trying to speak! No, no, little doggy, I don't want to hear anything out of you but sweet little puppy noises, until I stop calling you 'Princess', you hear?"

_Whine, whine._

"Atta_girl,_" the smug reply came, followed by a slow, rolling pattern starting up in his chastity belt vibrator _and_ his puppy tail plug. 

"Now squat down, Princess. Good _girl._ Do you want your tail plug out, puppy?"

_Whine, whine._

"I'm sure you _do,_ sweetheart. Is that because you need to go potty?"

_Whine, whine._

"Good boy, asking like a well-trained house pet! Yes, I think you can be allowed to go potty in your litterbox. Bend over a bit, let's get that plug out, that's a good puppy."

"Steady now, little pet." The plug stilled all vibration and was slowly withdrawn. His hole suddenly felt swollen like a balloon, desperately clenching sore and overstimulated muscles on unfamiliar sensations becoming incredibly urgent. 

"Okay, puppy. Go ahead and let go. You're allowed."

As much as he wanted not to follow such an order, never to have heard it, never to have _conceived_ of it before that evening, he was unable to do anything but sob gratefully and breathe hard, trying to allow his locked-up, over-worked and sore sphincters to relax. It took some time, while his thighs trembled in his squatting, crouched position. Suddenly, he inhaled hard, moaned, clenched and cried out gutturally as he unloaded his distended bowels into the humiliating-but-somehow-acceptable litterbox. 

* * *

For Nate, it was horrible in uncountable ways at once. Obviously, he was on the verge of tears from humiliated shame at being so desperate as to shit in a litterbox. He hated Joseph and he hated himself even more. His body was in absolute agony, tempered only by the pleasure he was occasionally allowed. And since he'd never found a man attractive before, the fact that he had the capability for this kind of pleasure was a terribly strange thing to come to grips with - particularly while his body was being forced to perform literally every function on command.

Worst of all, despite his internal turmoil, a relieved moan of "Ohhhh, _fuck_," came through his gag embarrassingly clearly. Nate couldn't help it: the warm water didn't burn and sting and _itch_ the way it had when he'd been allowed to release in the backyard. This was almost pleasurable in comparison, and it was an indescribably amazing sensation to have the horrible pressure in his bottom finally _stop_, like that old saying about hitting your head on a wall. It was all he could do to maintain the squat as he rode out what seemed like wave after wave of water rushing out of his hole. It felt as if he was rinsing himself out, all the thorny, burning shits quenched by the sheer amount of liquid inside him.

Suddenly, he felt the vibration on his chastity device kick on. In what felt like seconds, his cock swelled within its plastic prison, pinching painfully. But not painfully enough to stop the orgasm he felt building in his balls, which drew even further against his body than the chill air had already forced them, pulling at his tender sac. _No, no! I can't cum like **this**,_ Nate thought, panicky. _This hurts too bad, there's no **way** I should be hard right now - _

And then he was coming, helplessly shooting jism in a thick rope while his loose hole spasmed uncontrollably as it did its best to empty itself.

"Good puppy, that's _right,"_ Joseph's voice cheered. "I like to see you cumming while you obey orders, hmm? What a _good_ doggy!"

Nate groaned and sobbed into his gag, sagging into an all-fours position again and breathing hard as his guts roiled at his change in position. He could little avoid the weakening pelvic thrusts into thin air, or the aftershocks and clenching that was milking the last few drops of cum from his painful, trapped erection. The hard plastic prison seemed impossibly tight against his throbbing, hypersensitive cock.

He did his best to ride the sensations out, and rolled his hips, trying to simultaneously take advantage of any opportunity to empty his bowels he was offered at this point and "present" himself - Joseph seemed to like that.

"Yes, I see you. That wriggling dance you're doing there is very cute - somewhere between the potty dance and the fuck-me dance, I think." 

_Whine, whine._

"Heh. Well, puppy, let's look at the damage. Stand up with feet on either side of the box, hands on your knees. If anything else needs to come out, you just let me know, okay?"

_Whine, whine._

Nate scrambled to obey, positioning himself as directed. His guts chimed in, but he felt able to control himself for the duration of the squat - at least at that point.

Joseph turned down the vibrating cage to a very slow buzz, allowing Nate's trapped cock to soften somewhat but keeping him from going entirely flaccid. Nick's thoughts raced. Oh god, this was _so_ _bad - _he was spreading himself for _inspection_ after a shit! And hard while he did it. Why? Why was his cock into this?

* * *

He wanted to blame it on not getting laid recently, but he knew from some...experiments he had tried in his teen years that he could blow his load over practically anything, given enough time to get used to it. He wobbled in the uncomfortable position, getting more and more stuck in his thoughts. 

Because he'd intentionally pressed his porn boundaries, back then. He'd gotten well into male/male/female threesomes and some pretty hardcore femdom. Occasionally he'd find both, where the girl/guy duo both dominated the other guy and fucked his ass. It was hot, he could admit that to himself. And he'd let that freaky girl last semester eat his ass, and stick a finger in him while she was blowing him, which fucking _rocked_. He stopped her at pegging, not because he wasn't interested, but because he didn't trust her to be safe about it. She would get this look in her eye when she talked dirty about doing it, and when they fucked she always bit him a lot and didn't much listen to his yelps when it hurt. Because it _hurt!_ But, y'know...teenagers.

He'd just never seen himself as being directly attracted to a man if a woman wasn't involved. He'd never thought of himself as even bi-curious, much less someone that would ever fuck or date a guy. He'd had a little fling with a trans girl last semester, but mostly she wanted to just make out and cuddle and watch romances on Netflix. Once in a while they would watch each other get off, breathing heavy across from each other on his bed, and that had been _**stupid**_ hot. But she'd moved when she got accepted to a prime west coast spot, which they'd both known was a potential from their first chat on Tindr, and they'd reluctantly said goodbye. But he didn't consider himself even a little bit bi for being into her - just an "openminded straight dude," as she put it.

Besides, she'd been absolutely _bangin'_ and even when she didn't want to get off with him, she loved hearing via text how horned up she made him after he'd dropped her back off at her place. And sometimes she'd boss him through a nut or two, because hey, it was _**hot**_, having a girl as seemingly invested in his orgasm as he was. Even if she wasn't even physically there. She still did it once in a while, sending him thirsty selfies from her bunk in her tiny Bay area dorm. He was _always_ down.

Really, all the themes had been there, he realized belatedly. He _did_ like having his ass played with. He _did_ like stuff where another dude was involved in one way or another. And he liked stuff where a guy was the sub. So why not a guy as the only dom?

_Fuck!_ his mind protested furiously _I had never been into that before... Wait_, he thought. _Hadn't he said he had learned things in the Army?_ Nate distantly remembered Joseph's major _was_ Psychology...

But as much as he wanted to blame Joseph, he knew he couldn't. His cock seemed to like this, regardless of the utterly humiliating circumstances and purely aggressive torture. Where before he had been incandescent with rage and pain, he was now confused and uncertain. His slow realization of his body's clear response to Joseph's handling was grinding that resistance down, turing anger into shame and then intentionally forcing him to associate lust with that shame.

It was as if Joseph had found a control box for all of Nate's bodily functions, and commanded them when he wanted. And Nate was helpless to stop him.

He shivered and shook his head a little. What the fuck was going on in his head tonight? 

His head - and his junk, he reminded himself. Nate's cock jumped a little. Yes, Joseph had control of that too, just like everything else. And, well...control was kind of hot, right? He'd definitely jerked it to femdom porn where the male sub was plugged and punished...

He groaned, not realizing he did it out loud until Joseph asked in that horribly sugar-sweet tone, "Are you okay, puppy? You need to go potty again?"

A distant part of him noted that the voice bothered him just a little bit _less,_ a thought he cringed at. But, he quickly realized, he _did_ actually need to go again.


End file.
